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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762724">Against the Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sights9/pseuds/Sights9'>Sights9</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dark Shadows (1966)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff and character drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, NOT following Sam Halls epilogue, Werewolves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:48:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sights9/pseuds/Sights9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Christopher Jennings had wanted to be an architect, but for the past five years his life had been one long fight against the moon. Now, while Barnabas is stuck in Parallel Time, Chris finds himself facing new threats, and new hopes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chris Jennings/Sabrina Stuart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Disclaimer: Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production</p>
<p>A warm thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrWhom1963">DrWhom1963</a> and others who helped beta and proofread. And a shoutout to Cynthia Roberson at the Don Briscoe Fans Facebook page for inspiration on the car. This story picks up right after the events of episodes 978-980, and is not going to follow Sam Hall's epilogue.</p>
<p>Dedicated to Don Briscoe</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Chris started awake, disorientated for a fraction of a second, until he took in the small hospital room, and Sabrina in the bed directly in front of him. He must have dozed off. He sat back in his uncomfortable chair by the door and ran a hand down his face. He glanced at his watch. 11:47, roughly thirty minutes since the last time he remembered checking. He hadn’t been out too long then, good. His back had begun to protest being slumped in the hard seat, so he got up and stretched. He crossed the room to the window and opened the blinds, letting the midday light spill into the room. He turned back to Sabrina, who was still very much unconscious. Pale with sunken eyes, the side of her neck swaddled with gauze, and an IV bag of clear fluid feeding into her arm. She didn’t look any healthier in sunlight than she did under the fluorescent lamps, Chris thought with dismay. He went back and pulled the chair up to the bed. He sat, taking her cold hand and squeezing it gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was going to be ok. She had to be. Chris would never forgive himself if she wasn’t. For the hundredth time he berated himself for not staying with her. Quentin </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>him not to leave her alone, and what had he done? Left her alone to fetch Julia. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Idiot.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s his fault that Sabrina was here now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he and Julia had gotten back to the cottage, the front door was flung wide and Sabrina nowhere to be found. The next hour or so was a blur of frantic searching through the surrounding woods. Eventually Quentin ran up to say Julia and Barnabas had found Sabrina along the main drive through the estate, even weaker than before. Julia had rushed her to the hospital. Chris spent the rest of that long night waiting anxiously for news, or trying (and failing) to catch some sleep. Even after Julia called and said Sabrina’s condition had stabilized. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It probably hadn’t been a good idea for him to then drive here on such bad nerves, but he couldn’t rest without seeing for himself how she was. Now that he had, he didn’t want to leave until she woke up. As he watched her chest rise and fall with steady but shallow breaths, he pushed down a nagging fear that she wouldn’t. It would kill him to see her recover from one vegetative state just to fall into a coma. The doctors said she’d be alright, but tragedy seemed to strike anyone connected to him, even when it had nothing to do with his curse. His parents, Tom, … </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tom</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris let go of Sabrina’s hand and circled the bed to stare at the gauze taped to the side of her throat. Tom had died of strange neck wounds. There had to be some connection. Didn’t there? He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did she leave the cottage last night? What did it all mean?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly the door handle began to turn, making him start. It swung open to reveal Ned Stuart. The last person Chris wanted to see. Ned’s eyes lit up with surprise upon seeing him, and a small, leery smile crept across his lips. He closed the door definitively behind him. Chris tensed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello Chris. Long time no see.“ Ned said, feigning civility. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ned... ” Chris started, uncertain, but Ned kept going. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They told me Sabrina already had a visitor, but I didn’t expect it to be you—given how you behaved the last time something mysterious happened to her.” The jab was pointed, but Ned still had that unsettling grin. Chris didn’t respond. He was far too tired for whatever game Ned was trying to play. Seeing Chris wouldn’t take the bait, Ned dropped the pretense, his face harding. “So what are you doing here? Your conscience finally get the better of you?” Ned spared a look to his sister in the bed, taking his eyes off Chris for the first time since entering. “Whatever you did four years ago, at least she wasn’t physically injured that time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris was horrified at the implied accusation. He took a step towards Ned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> did this to her?!” He asked, gesturing at Sabrina.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ned stared Chris in the eye. “The thought crossed my mind, given your track record.” He said, voice steely. Then he looked back down to study Sabrina again. “But I guess I’ll believe you had nothing to do with it… </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> time.” Ned began to lightly stroke Sabrina’s arm. “If you had, you’d’ve already fled the state by now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris sighed heavily. “I swear to you, I have never, and would never, do anything to hurt her.“ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. And yet Sabrina keeps getting hurt around you, doesn’t she.” Ned was right. God he was right. “You never said what you’re doing here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris’s brow furrowed. Was Ned serious? “I’m here because I’m worried sick about her! Believe it or not Ned I don’t like it when Sabrina gets hurt!”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ned huffed contemptuously and stepped towards Chris. “Oh, well of course you’re worried about her now—now that you don’t possibly have any reason for wanting her to not recover.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you talking about.” Chris said wearily, not even forming it into a question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sabrina says she doesn’t remember what happened all those years ago to put her into shock. To be frank, I don’t believe her. I think she’s protecting you out of some self-destructive infatuation. I know she’s gone back to trying to see you,” he said with disgust. “But you know what? It doesn’t matter. Whether she remembers or not, you still do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris suddenly realized Ned was between him and the door. His heart beat faster as he felt the room start to close in on him. He turned and paced to the window. “Ned, for the last time I had nothing to do with it!” He breathed, trying to hide his rising anxiety.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All at once Ned was behind him, grabbing his arm hard as he yanked Chris to face him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t give me that!” Ned practically boomed. “If you had nothing to do with it then why did you skip town huh? Or assume she had died when I first caught up with you here?!” Ned stared him down expectantly as Chris scrambled to come up with some excuse, anything. He was saved from the inquisition when the door opened and Ned dropped his now throbbing arm. It was Quentin. He paused in the doorway, immediately aware of the tension in the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is everything alright Chris?” He asked guardedly, ready to intervene if necessary. This was his out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I was just leaving,” Chris huffed as he hurried past Ned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Ned wasn’t finished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jennings!” Chris stopped and looked back. “This isn’t over. And if Sabrina doesn’t make a full recovery, you’ll answer to me.” Ned promised coolly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris didn’t honor the threat with a response as he turned and pulled the door closed behind him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Out in the hall, Chris leaned against the door and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charming fellow,” Quentin said dryly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris sighed. “And now you’ve met Sabrina’s brother Ned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the mention of her, Quentin's demeanor softened. “How is Sabrina?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still very weak, but they expect her to make a full recovery as long as nothing else happens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank God.” Quentin said, relieved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what if something else </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> happen? We still don’t know what did this to her.” Chris said, paranoid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s in good hands here, nothing’s going to happen.” Quentin switched gears. “Are you going to stay here longer? I need to talk to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was planning to, but I’m not sticking around if Ned’s here. And if that commotion didn’t rouse her, I doubt Sabrina’s going to wake up any time soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re probably right. Shall we go back to the cottage then? We need to talk in private.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris shrugged, conflicted. He didn’t know if he trusted himself to drive. He’d been awake for nearly 24 hours now, and his thoughts were a dull buzz through the exhaustion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can whatever you have to say wait? I’m really tired. Think I might try to nap in my car before I go anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s rather urgent. I could drive.” Quentin offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about your car?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Julia’s supposed to come in later this evening, I can ride back with her. ”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris shrugged again. “If you’re fine with that, then sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They started down the corridor. Once they had gone a ways Quentin glanced at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chris, is Ned going to be causing trouble for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris sighed. “I’m sure he’ll try. I’d hoped it’d be enough for him that Sabrina finally recovered from that incident, but I’m not surprised that it isn’t. He always disliked me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll just have to be careful then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As if I don’t always have to be careful,” Chris mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They exited the sterile halls, out to where Chris had parked. The late March sun shone bright but cool, and Chris drew his coat closed against the chill. His mind drifted as he stopped at the car and waited for Quentin to open it. A gold 1964 Rambler coupe. He tried to maintain it, but it had clearly seen better days. He’d bought it new, expecting to only have it a year or two until he could afford something nicer, but then the curse started and ruined all those plans… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quentin’s voice broke through his thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need the keys Chris.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He fished them from his pocket and tossed them, feeling a bit foolish. The exhaustion was definitely catching up with him. Quentin unlocked the driver-side door and climbed in, reaching across to unlock the passenger door for Chris. As he got in and waited for Quentin to adjust the seat, his thoughts returned to Sabrina’s mysterious injury. The similarity had to be more than just coincidence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think whatever happened to Sabrina might be the same thing that happened to my brother Tom,” he said after Quentin had started the car and backed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>brother</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Quentin asked, surprised enough to steal a glance over at Chris. “How come I’ve never heard anything about you having a brother before?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess because he’s been dead for two years.” Chris slouched down and closed his eyes, tipping his head back to rest on the top of the seat back. “Died of blood loss due to strange wounds in his neck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris felt the car lurch. Alarmed, he snapped up and scanned for the source of the disturbance. He saw nothing, but Quentin’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “What was that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Nothing,” Quentin said quickly. “A bird flew right in front of the car.” Perhaps a bit too quickly. Chris studied him doubtfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please Quentin, if you know something, tell me. Investigating his death is what drew me back to Collinsport in the first place.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like I said last night, I don’t know anything,” Quentin said, rather impatiently as he turned out of the hospital parking lot. “I can only guess that it was some animal, the same kind that attacked Sabrina.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris shook his head. “Everyone back then said the same thing, but no one was ever able to say what kind of animal it could have been.” Chris slid back down to lay his head on the seat back again. “I just… when I heard his injuries ‘resembled the bite of an animal,’ I didn’t know what to think. I had to come back, to find out what happened. Rule out the possibility that it had anything to do with what happens to me, or was caused by someone else like me. But it doesn’t check out to have been a werewolf, for Tom or Sabrina.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right, it doesn’t.” Quentin said definitively.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris rolled his head to crack an eye at him. “You said that awful confidently.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not confident, I’m upset. He was your brother and my grandson. I’m not happy with the thought of him dying like he did.” Quentin replied tersely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He still suspected Quentin knew more than he was telling, but didn’t have the energy to push the issue further right now. “Oh, how nice of you to care.” Chris mumbled sarcastically as he let his head loll with the movement of the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quentin made no response, and they rode in silence for a few minutes. Chris almost began to doze off when he remembered something else. “People’s reactions to me when I first arrived were very odd as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In what way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Understandably, everyone thought I was Tom come back from the dead at first—we were identical twins—but the strange thing was that some of them reacted more with… terror, than shock or disbelief. As if they immediately assumed Tom would try to hurt them somehow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quentin said nothing for a moment, and Chris started to let himself drift off again when Quentin finally spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you were twins, did he also have the curse?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Just me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris didn’t want to discuss Tom anymore. He changed the subject. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said you had things you wanted to talk about?” Might as well get whatever it was out of the way now. He wasn’t getting any less tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, and none of them pleasant I’m afraid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris wasn’t surprised. News never seemed to be good in this town.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jeb is dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no. He opened his eyes and stared at the roof of the car. “How did it happen?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sky Rumson pushed him off Widow’s Hill last night, before taking his own life. Carolyn’s devastated, of course.” Poor Carolyn. He only met Jeb once in passing, and frankly did not get the best first impression, but he had wanted her to be happy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quentin wasn’t finished. “And then there’s Barnabas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened to Barnabas?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s uh, gone for the time being. He disappeared through some kind of portal in the East Wing of Collinwood into another world.” Chris picked his head up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, incredible isn’t it. But he showed me this…” Quentin gestured vaguely “—phenomenon, it’s real.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, what kind of other world? Is he alright? Can he get back at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Collinwood, but everything’s… different. We don’t know if he’s alright. You can see through the barrier when it occurs, but he’s not in the portal room anymore. Julia’s quite upset.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can imagine.” Chris didn’t fully understand what there was between the two of them, but everyone knew they were close. He felt a headache coming on. This was a lot to take in. “So what, Barnabas gets stuck in the past for most of a year, and now he’s managed to get himself flung out of time </span>
  <em>
    <span>again?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Chris asked incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris scoffed and rubbed his eyes. “Why does this kind of stuff always happen to him? It’s like he invites it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quentin shrugged. “Perhaps he does. You know he’s not like other people.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chris’s eyes narrowed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no he isn’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat up fully. They were almost to the edge of the estate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They parked behind the main gate, and Quentin handed back his keys. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You still coming to the cottage?” Chris asked. Quentin shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve already covered everything I needed to tell you, and you can get the details later after you rest up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah alright.” Chris started towards the cottage, then as an afterthought called back: “Oh, thanks for driving.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corner of Quentin’s mouth quirked up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t mention it,” he said as he likewise started towards the main house. </span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chris stepped inside the cottage, shucking off his coat and throwing it over the nearest chair. He went straight to the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and flopped onto the bed. Almost instantly he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic so pls let me know if I'm formatting anything incorrectly. Comments/reviews/criticisms welcome and appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrWhom1963">DrWhom1963</a> and others for beta &amp; proofreading.</p>
<hr/><p>Quentin gradually made his way through Collinwood towards the second-floor east wing corridor, while his thoughts jostled each other for attention.</p><p>He had to be more careful about his reactions. It was unlikely that Chris would begin to suspect Barnabas’s secret in the man’s absence, but not impossible. Chris wasn’t stupid, and one slip-up was all it could take to start the ball rolling. So far Quentin had made two, which unfortunately compounded on each other. First he’d been too short with Chris at the cottage last night, his anger at what Barnabas had done making him overly defensive. It’d seemed like Chris wouldn’t think anything of that, but then he’d lost composure again in the car. Quentin would have to rehearse his lies for if Chris pressed him further. He just hoped they’d be convincing enough to win back some trust. The more Chris trusted him, the easier it would make things.</p><p>As he finally approached the correct hallway, he circled back to Barnabas. Quentin knew he’d been struggling with the bloodlust, but intentionally trapping himself in another dimension still seemed an insane response given the circumstances. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised though. Quentin himself could be impulsive, he’d admit that, but Barnabas was something else. Delusional maybe. Once he got a conviction in his head, it was near impossible to dissuade him from it. The man’s unique condition only seemed to exacerbate that trait. Julia was more grounded, her scientific mind less likely to jump to lunatic conclusions. But she too had a wide stubborn streak, especially when it came to Barnabas.</p><p>Which was why he was about to enter a temporally unstable room in an abandoned corner of the house to talk to her. Quentin strode up to the double doors, about to grab both knobs, but stopped when he saw one of them was ajar. He pushed it open quietly. Sure enough there she was, standing in the middle of the floor, just staring at the far wall.</p><p>“Julia?” He called gently. She turned and attempted a polite smile in greeting, but it fell immediately. He stepped fully into the room and pushed the door closed behind him. “Anything?”</p><p>She shook her head. “No. The room hasn’t changed since-since Barnabas entered.“</p><p>She looked careworn. Quentin wondered how long she’d been here. And how much sleep she’d gotten last night. She didn’t look quite as physically tired as Chris had today, but she was almost certainly more accustomed to stressful all-nighters then he was. And Quentin knew her willingness to put Barnabas before herself.</p><p>“Why don’t you get some rest? It’s pointless to wait here for him during the day.”</p><p>“I know but, any time the room changes could offer some clue as to what’s happening to him. Or if I’m <em>in</em> the room, then maybe I—“</p><p>He cut her off as he stepped closer. “Julia, we need you here. Chris and Sabrina need you. Carolyn and the family need you.” He said firmly.</p><p>She nodded defeatedly. “You’re right. I feel so responsible for Sabrina. If the injections hadn’t failed, Barnabas wouldn’t have been in a state to do something like that. Or try to go to parallel time!” She lamented.</p><p>He felt a surge of frustration at the current situation. He touched her shoulder. “Now listen to me. This isn’t your fault.” He clenched his fists. “The person who we should be blaming this on is Jeb!”</p><p>“Well he won’t be causing anyone any more trouble now.” She responded grimly.</p><p>Quentin sighed. “That’s true.” Carolyn had his sympathies, but he still believed they were all better off in the long run with Jeb out of the picture.</p><p>“And now there’s talk going around about the attacks again. People are connecting it to the strange animal.”</p><p>So Chris was indirectly being blamed for Barnabas’s crimes. He thought of what his grandson had revealed in the car: his <em>other</em> grandson, he thought angrily, swept under the rug. Quentin hadn’t been lying to Chris when he’d said he was upset, but he was as much indignant that this had been kept from him as he was at the man’s actual death. He knew and accepted that there was much Barnabas and Julia kept from him, but he expected them to not withhold pertinent information. He’d stood by and let Barnabas kill his own <em>brother</em>, did they really think his descendent’s fate might change where Quentin’s loyalties lay? Assuming Barnabas was responsible; which he might not be, Quentin told himself. But he was far and away the prime suspect. He’d promised himself he’d wait until there were less pressing issues to confront Julia on it, but his emotions ran suddenly high. Why shouldn’t he know now? Hadn’t they kept it from him long enough?</p><p>Quentin tried to keep the accusation out of his voice. “Julia? I just had a talk with Chris. He told me about his brother.” She turned her head in his direction, eyebrows twitching. “Did Barnabas kill Tom?” He asked confidentially.</p><p>”No.” She stated.</p><p>“Then who did?”</p><p>She turned face him fully, tilting her chin down slightly as she looked up at him.</p><p>“Angelique.”</p><p>“Angelique!?” He hissed incredulously. “But he was killed by a vampire wasn’t he?”</p><p>Julia spun away and took a few steps, quickly throwing her hands up and bringing them down to bounce against the side of her leg. “Yes, but it’s such a long story.” She said, exasperated.</p><p>Of course. Quentin chuckled mirthlessly. “What isn’t in this house.” He braced himself for Julia to launch into a recounting of it, but she merely looked away, resuming her unreadable stare around the empty room. He was grateful for it, he’d already had all the ‘long stories’ he could stomach at the moment.</p><p>But with sinking dread, it occurred to him the next question that begged to be asked. “Did—did he rise?”</p><p>Julia stood motionless for a beat, then just swallowed and nodded.</p><p><em>God.</em> He closed his eyes and let his head tip up with a deep breath.</p><p>“I’m sorry Quentin.” She said at last. “But I can assure you that Barnabas didn’t do it, because he was human at that time,” she explained quickly. “He was the one to destroy Tom.”</p><p>He opened his eyes. “At least he’s at peace then.” Quentin replied bleakly. He looked to her again. “Were you ever planning to tell me?” He asked, still somber.</p><p>She put a hand on his arm.</p><p>“We didn’t intend to keep it from you Quentin, there was always just, something more important. Please believe that.”</p><p>He had no trouble believing it. But he allowed himself one more moment to stew before he relented.</p><p>“Alright,” he nodded, pushing the topic aside for later as Julia let her hand drop. They still had other things to discuss, and unlike her, he didn’t want to spend any more time in this room than he had to. “So what are we going to do about Sabrina.”</p><p>“Right now all we can do is wait for her to regain consciousness. After that we’ll have to keep a very close eye on her. She might give us some indication of how Barnabas is. Eventually I can try using hypnosis to lessen some of Barnabas’s hold on her, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to undo it completely.” She frowned and chawfed. “I can’t imagine how we’re going to explain it Chris.”</p><p>Quentin couldn’t either. More lies to memorize. It never stopped here, did it.</p><p>“Barnabas had hoped the mere act of transcending the time warp might make him human, but that didn’t happen.” Well, that explained the man’s actions a little more, although Quentin still couldn’t follow how Barnabas had gotten that idea. But what did any of them know of such things?</p><p>“You’re sure about that?”</p><p>Julia nodded. “From the doorway I saw him attack that other Carolyn.”</p><p>“Then he’s no better off there than he is here.” Quentin exhaled.</p><p>“No. Which is why I’m so terrified for him.”</p><p>His mouth twitched with the ghost of a smirk. <em>All this trouble, and the only thing Barnabas accomplished was making himself someone else’s problem</em>, he thought ruefully.</p><p>“If only it would sever his hold on Sabrina.” He said wishfully.</p><p>Julia paused, then slowly turned and paced past him. Her brows knit, and Quentin could picture the wheels in her mind beginning to spin.</p><p>“I suppose it’s possible. We’re dealing with the complete unknown here. It would make things simpler, unless—“ she stopped short, suddenly worried.</p><p>“Unless what?”</p><p>She turned to him urgently. “There’s no telling what she’d remember. She might expose him! Oh, if only there was a way to tell before she came to.” She moaned.</p><p>Quentin mentally ran through his visit to the hospital. He’d been more focused on breaking up the argument Chris and Ned were having than examining Sabrina, but… <em>the window.</em></p><p>“Wait a minute.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>Quentin spoke quickly. “When I went to the hospital earlier to talk to Chris, the blinds in Sabrina’s room were open. Isn’t sensitivity to sunlight one of the signs of a victim?”</p><p>“Yes, yes it is.” She said eagerly, voice urging him to continue.</p><p>“There was sunlight falling directly on her and she seemed completely unaffected.”</p><p>He watched a complex reaction play out on her face. Julia drew herself up with new determination. “Then I need to arrange to be with her when she wakes. Prevent her from talking. Wipe her memory if I have to.“</p><p>She turned on her heels and strode purposefully to the doors.</p><p>“So you’re going to the hospital immediately? I’ll come with you.”</p><p>Julia was now all business. “Give me 30 minutes to check on Carolyn and get my things. Then meet me in the foyer.” She instructed before hurrying down the hall.</p><p>“Alright, in the foyer.” He called after her as he followed to find a drink.</p><p>So much for her getting any rest.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sabrina found herself in that space between sleeping and wakefulness. The first thing she was aware of was being a bit too cold. She shifted blindly in an attempt to nestle deeper in the covers, but stopped when her neck and arm pinched strangely. Then something began moving her other hand.</p><p>
  <em>...sabrina? Sabrina, can you hear me?</em>
</p><p>Ned?</p><p>She blinked awake, disoriented. The first thing she saw was her brother looming over her. He smiled.</p><p>“Hey, Sabrina, it’s me.” Ned said as he tugged lightly on her hand.</p><p>Why had he woken her? Did he want something? She turned her eyes to her surroundings. She was in an unfamiliar, institutional room. Her confusion mounted and mingled with alarm.</p><p>Sabrina tried to sit up. “What—where-?”</p><p>Ned gently pushed her back by her shoulders. “Hey, it’s alright, just take it easy,” he shushed. He quickly reached behind her head and rearranged the pillows to prop her up a bit. “You’re at the Collinsport hospital. You were injured but everything’s going to be alright now. Everything’s going to be alright.”</p><p>She heard him, but her attention had instantly been drawn to her right arm. She stared squeamishly at the IV needle embedded in her flesh, then followed the connected tube up to its half-empty bag hanging from a metal stand. The motion caused something to chafe and pull on the right side of her neck. Sabrina quickly brought her left hand up across her throat, letting her fingers flutter over what felt to be a piece of gauze taped to her skin. <em>She’d been injured? </em>She pushed down a flair of anxiety and looked back to him. He was sitting next to the bed, smiling at her patiently.</p><p>“What happened to me?” She asked, completely dumbfounded.</p><p>Ned’s smile faltered. “Don’t you know?”</p><p>Sabrina thought hard.</p><p>“I-I was in the woods...”</p><p>Ned grabbed her hand again. “Yes?”</p><p>She began to feel overwhelmed as she tried to coax memories from her mind.</p><p>“I-I think...”</p><p>Just then the door swung open and Julia barged in.</p><p>“Sabrina!” She croaked, clearly taken aback, but she immediately plastered over it with a smile. “How-how long have you been awake?”</p><p>Sabrina opened her mouth to reply but Ned automatically answered for her. “Just a few minutes. I haven’t even called a nurse yet.” Sabrina fumed at him.</p><p>“I’ll take care of that.” Julia said eagerly. “Has she said anything to you?”</p><p>“No, in fact I—“</p><p>Julia interrupted him authoritatively. “Then I’d like to talk to Sabrina alone if you don’t mind, would you leave the room Mr. Stuart?”</p><p>Ned bristled and stood up defensively. “Now wait a minute, you can’t just—“</p><p>Sabrina was completely lost, but she trusted Julia and moreover, was sick to death of Ned continuing to speak for her as if she was still mute. “It’s alright Ned, please leave us.” She called to him pointedly.</p><p>Ned eyed Julia doubtfully, but grudgingly filed past her to the door. “I’ll be just outside, Sabrina.” He said, as much at the doctor as her. Julia watched him go with a closed expression, then pushed the door shut after him. She came and sat in the chair Ned had vacated, crossing her legs as she studied Sabrina closely for a beat.</p><p>“How do you feel?” She asked clinically.</p><p>Sabrina swallowed dryly. “Like I could use some water.” She said with a weak attempt at humor.</p><p>The corners of Julia’s mouth pulled up, but didn’t quite make a smile.</p><p>“I’ll make sure they bring you some soon, but first,—“ her chin rose slightly, expression becoming almost stony. “—do you know why you’re here?”</p><p>Sabrina shook her head, forgetting the motion would make the tape pull uncomfortably at her skin.</p><p>“Ned said I’d been injured. My neck I guess.” She couldn’t feel bandages anywhere else. And frankly she couldn’t feel any pain in her neck, but there wouldn’t be a bandage there for no reason.</p><p>Julia nodded “You lost a lot of blood. You’re lucky we got to you in time.” Sabrina frowned. Lost a lot of blood? The piece of gauze didn’t feel that big.</p><p>“How was I injured?” Sabrina asked expectantly.</p><p>Julia did not give her an answer. Instead she slid a hand into the pocket of her coat and toyed with something within. “What do you remember, Sabrina?” She asked slowly.</p><p>Sabrina took a deep breath, and silently recalled everything she could about her most recent day. Julia watched intently, but did not rush her.</p><p>“The last thing I remember is walking through the woods from Collinwood to the Old House.” She said tentatively.</p><p>“But you don’t remember whether you made it to the Old House?” Julia prompted.</p><p>“No. I wanted to talk to Barnabas about Chris, but I... I just don’t remember.” Sabrina was quickly becoming frustrated with herself. “Julia what happened to me?” She demanded. </p><p>Julia just continued to scrutinize her. Finally she blinked, and with a tight flourish drew her hand from her pocket and clasped it with the other.</p><p>“We’re not sure,” she said at last. “We think you were bitten by some wild animal.”</p><p>Chris? “Wild animal? You don’t mean—“</p><p>Julia held a hand up a hand. “No, I don’t mean that, I mean a regular, wild animal.”</p><p>“Oh.” She guessed it was possible. Regardless, <em>why</em> was her memory blank?</p><p>Julia uncrossed her legs. “Do you mind if I examine your neck? I know I’m not here in an official capacity, but I’d like to see if they're healing properly.”</p><p>It seemed rather presumptuous of Julia, but Sabrina supposed there was no harm in it.</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>Julia stood and circled the bed. Sabrina turned her head to the side, allowing Julia to carefully peel back one piece of tape and lift the gauze. After a moment, she exhaled and reset the bandage. “They’re healing very nicely.” Julia said as she stepped back, relieved. She returned to the chair but did not sit back down. “You’re sure you remember nothing of last night?” Julia drawled as she looked down on Sabrina.</p><p>“Yes,” Sabrina sighed, already exasperated at the question she knew she would be asked frequently in the future.</p><p>“Not even what you said and did?”</p><p>Sabrina’s brow creased. Said and did? “What are you talking about?”</p><p>And so she listened in disbelief as Julia broke down what she had allegedly done. Her stumbling into Chris’s cottage, clearly injured but unwilling to say why, and belligerently refusing to be looked at by any doctor except Julia. Her disappearance, seemingly by her own volition, and the subsequent discovery of her along the main drive in critical condition.</p><p>When Julia finished, Sabrina just stared down at the stiff bed sheets, completely at a loss to rationalize either her amnesia or her supposed actions.</p><p>“That’s why I wanted to speak with you alone and examine your wound,” Julia explained as an afterthought, “because of how you asked for me specifically last night. I assumed you would remember and be able to explain your reasons.”</p><p>“I don’t understand any of it.” Sabrina said haltingly as she glanced at Julia.</p><p>Julia thought for a moment. “Whatever happened to injure you seems to have been an emotionally traumatic experience. Perhaps your mind automatically blocked it out. Like it had with your previous trauma, but less extreme.” She offered.</p><p>Sabrina didn’t think this situation was anything like her <em>previous trauma</em> as Julia called it, but she couldn’t come up with any other explanations to challenge it at the moment.</p><p>She considered a worrying possibility.“You don’t think this kind of thing is going to keep happening to me do you? Not being able to remember things?”</p><p>Julia smiled, leaning in to pat her arm reassuringly. “I don’t think so, try not to worry about it.”</p><p>Sabrina nodded and tried to return the smile. Julia sounded confident enough, and with her mind already swimming from everything else, she would trust the doctor for now.</p><p>“Do you think I’ll ever remember?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Julia said, her confidence ebbing as a shadow passed over her face. But it was gone almost as quickly as it had come. She smiled again. “Chris will be very glad to know that you’re up. He was here earlier and I think he would have liked to’ve stayed, but your brother scared him away.”</p><p><em>I’m sure he did</em>, Sabrina thought resentfully. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Before either of them could react, it opened partially and Ned leaned in. Speak of the Devil.</p><p>“Are ah, you two finished yet?” He asked curtly, though she could tell he was trying not to be.</p><p>Julia looked to Sabrina, leaving the response up to her.</p><p>“Yes Ned, you can come in.”</p><p>He stepped inside. “May I ask Doctor, what was so important that you had to see her the second she regained consciousness?”</p><p>Julia raised her chin slightly. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, Mr. Stuart, but last evening your sister was—for whatever reason—insistent that I and I alone provide medical help to her. Even though I decided her condition was severe enough to have her brought here, I still wanted to respect her wishes and consult with her alone, as soon after she awoke as possible. As to what we discussed—” Julia gestured in her direction “—I will leave it up to Sabrina to decide what she wishes to tell you.”</p><p>Ned turned expectantly to her, and Sabrina groaned inwardly. She did not want to be saddled with explaining to him what she barely understood herself.</p><p>“Please Julia, can you stay and help me tell it all to Ned? I think I’d like to hear it a second time myself.”</p><p>Mercifully Julia agreed.</p><p>Sabrina told Ned what little she remembered, then sat back and listened as Julia once more ran through the strange events of last night and her part in them. As she knew he would, Ned became particularly interested when he heard that Chris had been involved. Everything always came back to Chris with him. A type of apathy crept over her as he began to second-guess Julia’s accounts and imply she might be lying to protect Chris of some wrongdoing, which Julia cooly denied. Once or twice Sabrina tried to butt in and ask Ned to save it for another time, but he had again forgotten she was there. So she gave up, and gradually tuned out the souring conversation. She hadn’t thought she was tired, but she closed her eyes and found that she didn’t much feel like opening them. So she retreated, and let herself drift away.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alright folks, now that we've got the biggest loose end from the show tied up, we can move on to newer and (hopefully) more interesting stuff. Comments/reviews/criticisms welcome and appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A shout out to my awesome betas <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrWhom1963">DrWhom1963</a>, Dani, and others. I couldn't do it without you.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Chris sat by the fireplace in the cottage with a cup of coffee and the morning paper. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Collinsport Star</span>
  </em>
  <span>; issue Saturday, March 28. Twenty-two days until the next full moon. He skimmed the headlines. WOMAN ATTACKED ON COLLINS ESTATE. He read just enough to confirm that it was about Sabrina and not a new incident, then moved on. Deeper into the paper there was a statement from the sheriff on Bruno’s death, with vague promises about the great strides the police were taking to catch or kill the animal. Seeing nothing else relevant, he folded the paper and tossed it aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could almost not feel bad about Bruno. Almost. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bruno was a cruel, dangerous man</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The world is probably better off without him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Still, every death the animal caused disturbed him. If nothing else, it brought unwanted attention. Increased both the chances and the consequences of being discovered. And with Bruno, Chris didn’t even know if he was free of him yet. How much should he trust death to stop the man who had commanded a zombie against him? He still had to suppress a shudder thinking about Davenport, and that chilling moment when Bruno said “</span>
  <em>
    <span>WE</span>
  </em>
  <span> have that power.” There was some terrible conspiracy here, and Bruno had only been one part of it. What happened to Sky was all the proof he needed. Rumson had admitted to Chris that he was in with Bruno but wanted out, tried to help him and Sabrina, but was caught. Chris wasn’t sure what to make of his involvement with Jeb’s death, but he had the grim suspicion that Rumson didn’t choose to kill himself. And Carolyn’s new husband </span>
  <em>
    <span>must’ve</span>
  </em>
  <span> been involved somehow, if Hawkes had been the real target of Bruno’s convoluted scheme. Chris didn’t know how much she knew of it, and he wasn’t about to ask. He had enough to worry about already. Better to just keep his head down and pray that with Jeb, Sky, and Bruno all gone, he’d be out of that mess. He supposed he should stop by Collinwood today, give Carolyn his condolences.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over as the logs shifted and crackled in the fire. He’d built it first thing when he’d gotten up that morning and it was already dying down. The cottage did have a central heating system, but the furnace was old and barely adequate. Not that he’d ever tell the Collinses that. He didn’t dare complain while they were generous enough to let him live here rent-free. He made to get up and add another log , but changed his mind and sat back down. The day would get warmer; he wouldn’t need the fire much longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris shook his head. He still couldn’t believe Sabrina tried to scare Bruno off. What was she thinking? Putting herself in harm’s way for him was the last thing Chris wanted, and he thought he’d made that clear to her. He was able to breathe easier since he’d gotten word from Julia that she was conscious, but the amnesia was troubling. Whatever attacked her was still out there, and they had no answers. Worse still was the idea that it was fallout from what he’d done to her, and the renewed attention from Ned. Yesterday at the hospital was the first direct interaction he’d had with the man in a year, and he’d almost begun to think that Ned had forgotten about him. Obviously that was not the case. He couldn’t blame Ned though. If Amy were Sabrina, he’d do the same thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which reminded him that he still needed to decide what to do about Amy’s fast approaching birthday. She’d be 13 this year, officially a teenager. He should do something special for the milestone, and more importantly, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make up for being unavailable last year. Her previous birthday had been her first since Chris returned to Collinsport—since Tom died—but he’d spent it and the following several months as an inmate of Windcliff due to erratic transformations. Amy was greatly disappointed, and it had weighed heavily on him all year. Now with only four days left to come up with something, he was getting desperate. He couldn’t think of any gift within his budget that felt meaningful enough, and with winter’s chill only just starting to loosen its grip, the list of things he could do with her were limited to indoor activities. Chris wracked his brain, going over the same lackluster ideas he’d had for months, searching for one he might have overlooked. Finally he gave up. To heck with it, why didn’t he just ask her? Nothing said it had to be a surprise, and he couldn’t go wrong with something that Amy picked herself. He should do that today as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris downed the rest of his coffee, threw his coat on and headed out the door, picking his way along the footpath that connected the cottage to the driveway. He walked quickly up the tree-lined asphalt, trying to get as far as possible before the brisk air seeped through to his skin. He’d grown up with the harsh Maine winters and was accustomed to them, but no longer had the proper clothes for it. His return to Collinsport was the first time in years he’d spent the cold months someplace that was actually cold. Waking up outside covered in blood was already bad enough without the added risk of freezing to death. Yet here he was. When he’d decided to come back, he never imagined he would stay this long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What warmth he still carried was blown away by the breeze as he reached the edge of the lawn surrounding the mansion, and the tips of his ears were beginning to sting by the time he reached the porte cochere. He gave the knocker a few good raps and waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment Maggie opened the door. “Good morning Chris.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Maggie,” he returned as he stepped inside. The foyer was drafty and he wasn’t sure how long he’d stay, so he left his coat on. “I heard about Carolyn. How is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maggie’s face fell in sympathy. “As well as can be expected I guess. She’s resting right now.” Chris didn’t want to disturb her then. He moved on to his second reason for coming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maggie, I was thinking of doing something special with Amy on her birthday. Is that going to interfere with her studies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked slightly embarrassed. “Well actually, Mrs. Stoddard and I are already planning to throw her a little party here that day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” An awkward beat of silence followed. Why hadn’t they consulted him? “Am I not invited or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “We figured you weren’t planning anything, and with everything you’ve been through the past couple days, we were going to wait till tomorrow to tell you. You’re more than welcome to come of course, but...” her voice hardened. “Excuse me for saying so, but you’ve been awfully flaky in the past. We were afraid to get Amy’s hopes up on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>well </span>
  </em>
  <span>aware of that. He could do without the lecture. “I know, I know, that’s why I want to make it up to her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Maggie said flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, frustrated at himself. He should’ve expected the Collinses would want to do something for her as well. This is what he got for waiting until the last minute. “Look I’ll come to the party, but I was really hoping to do something else with her, just the two of us. What about the day before? Can you let her off Tuesday as well?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maggie’s look of contempt didn’t change as she listened, but finally she exhaled. “Alright, I’ll hold off on her work that day. But if you promise to do something for her, you better do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will, thank you Maggie. Where is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last I checked she and David were playing in the study.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I swear I won’t let her down.” Chris said as he left to find his sister.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two kids were playing cards at Roger’s desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Amy, David.” Chris called as he entered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy lit up. “Hi Chris!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David looked up from his hand to give a simple “Hey,”  with a casual smile and a wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris came over and peered at the many short stacks of cards, placed seemingly at random across the desk. “What game are you playing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bookends. It’s something David made up. It’s pretty fun.” Amy explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David offered no comment, focused on the cards. “Aha!” He cried suddenly as he revealed a three of clubs, then slapped it face-down onto a face-up pile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think you could pause it for a sec? I gotta talk to Amy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David huffed. “Oh okay, but remember it’s still my turn. I’m gonna go get a snack.” He set his hand down and trotted out of the study.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy put her own cards down as Chris perched on the edge of the desk next to her. “How’re you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy looked to the side and shrugged. “Okay I guess.” She sounded uncertain, and he waited for her to continue. “I’m worried about Carolyn. She was crying last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m worried about her too.” Chris said simply. He didn’t know how much the children were told, or had guessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy looked up at him with those big brown eyes. “Chris? You’re not going to go away like last year, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave her a reassuring smile and reached over to squeeze her hand. “Nope. In fact that’s what I wanted to talk about. How would you like to do something special on Tuesday? Just the two of us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy considered this. “Like what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything you want to. We could… spend the day in town, see a movie, or take a trip somewhere—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boston?” She interrupted excitedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris winced. He recalled there had been plans to take the children to Boston a while ago that fell through at the last minute. “Boston’s too far of a trip for one day, sweetie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face fell. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we could go to Bangor, or Augusta, or Portland,” He offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pouted. “What’s there to do there? They don’t have the U.S.S. Constitution or an aquarium or the Boston Tea Party.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris had to smile. “Well how do you know? You ever been to Augusta or Portland?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Amy replied sullenly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then for all you know they might have something that’s even better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What could be better than the Boston Tea Party?” She asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I know they have old sailing ships in Portland, and I’m pretty sure there’s an art museum. Augusta has the state capital building, and they just opened a brand new state history museum. They probably even have things from Collinsport in it.“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t look convinced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or we can always stay here, if no destination but Boston will satisfy.” He teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I do want to take a trip. I guess the state museum could be neat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned and patted her on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit. We’ll keep an eye out for fun stuff along the way too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy quickly warmed to the idea. “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so exciting to finally get to go somewhere with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Chris glanced away, pushing down a lump of guilt. Thankfully David slipped back in, munching on an apple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chris is taking me to the state museum in Augusta on Tuesday!” She boasted to him as he resumed his place at the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David was clearly jealous, but tried to brush it off. “That’s cool, I guess—I mean if you like that sort of thing.” He said through a mouthful of fruit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy didn’t seem to notice. “I do like museums. It’s fun to imagine how people used to live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looking at old things is boring,” David scoffed. “I can do that here.” He put his apple to the side and picked up his cards. “Let’s keep playing Amy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked to him. “Is it okay Chris? I don’t want to lose our place in the game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. You two have fun.” He leaned in and kissed her on the top of the head. “I’ll see you later Amy. Bye David.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye.” He called, already engrossed in the cards.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He returned to the foyer and was almost out the door when—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chris?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked back and found Carolyn standing between the drawing room doors, pinning him with a solemn stare. Chris stepped away from the exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Carolyn. I’m sorry about Jeb.” It was inadequate, but he didn’t know what else to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mouth crimped in an imitation of a smile. “You and everyone else.” She replied ruefully. “Trying to sneak out without facing the new widow?” The words themselves had a bitter edge, but there was only weariness in their delivery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Maggie told me you were resting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn seemed to sag. “I got tired of resting.” She looked away dejectedly for a second, drawing a slow breath before returning focus to him. “Can you stay for a moment? I won’t keep you long.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” He didn’t feel right leaving her alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She motioned to him and Chris followed her into the drawing room. She wore a plain black dress, her long hair tied back loosely. As he got closer he saw she had no makeup on, her eyes still red and swollen from previously shed tears. He was trying and failing to think of something to say that didn’t risk making her worse, and was guiltily relieved to see her gather herself to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, and Sabrina…” Carolyn trailed off, then swallowed. She began again, low and evenly. “Whatever your problems are Chris, she knows, doesn’t she?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the faintest twinge of unease at the topic of </span>
  <em>
    <span>his problems</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wary that she was bringing this up now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…yeah.” He answered cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she wants to help you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now his guard was up. “What’s that got to do with—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn cut him off with a slight twist of her head. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like people prying. I just, keep thinking I could have done more for Jeb if he’d let me.” She said haltingly, looking down as her voice tightened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris took a moment to process this. So she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> known to some extent that her husband was in trouble. But he was unsure of the connection she was trying to make, and whether it meant danger for him. He put those worries aside as Carolyn suddenly turned away, wiping at her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he soothed, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her to the sofa. Instead she spun around and hugged him tightly. It caught him by surprise, but he recovered quickly and settled his arms around her. “Don’t blame yourself.” Carolyn only sniffled, and he held her in silence as she took several deep, shaky breaths. Finally she let go of him and stepped back. Her eyes glistened when they met his, but her cheeks were dry, and again she pulled her lips into something approaching a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore today.” Her throat was stiff but she managed to speak calmly. “And I don’t blame myself. I just wish things could have been different. And I want them to be different for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris still did not understand, and her obliqueness was starting to really concern him. She may be able to hold back her tears, but it was obvious that she was still deeply upset. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carolyn, what are you talking about?” He demanded as gently as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She searched for words. “I’ve become fond of both of you, and... well, I don’t want to see any harm come to you, or—or Sabrina to end up like me.” She said it with such gravity, as if it cut to the heart of the matter. Chris blinked. Meaning he should let Sabrina involve herself more? Was that all she was saying? He thought she was trying to get at something more. Well it was a bad idea. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sabrina involving herself almost got you killed, Carolyn. It could’ve gotten all three of us killed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But that wasn’t what she needed to hear right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate that, and I’ll talk to her about it.” He assured her. It wasn’t a lie in any case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as Sabrina was better, they were going to have a long talk about things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn nodded gratefully, just as he heard approaching footsteps from the foyer. They both looked as Maggie walked by. She paused as she saw them, then changed her course to come into the drawing room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carolyn, when did you get up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn gave a despondent shrug. “A little while ago.“ She gestured to him. “I just managed to catch Chris on his way out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can stay if you need the company.” He offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn shook her head. “No, I said I wouldn’t keep you. Besides—“ She sighed, and glanced at Maggie almost resentfully. “—Maggie’s here to look after me now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris searched her face. “If you’re sure you’ll be alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t fully meet his gaze. “Mhm. Give me a few days and I’ll bounce right back.” Carolyn replied, the tremor in her voice undermining the sardonic front she was trying to put on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you sit down Carolyn, and I’ll fetch us some tea.” Maggie coaxed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carolyn didn’t move or answer, her eyes fixing dully on some empty space next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris felt bad about leaving, but it seemed like she wanted to be alone right now. “Carolyn? If there’s anything I can do for you...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first he thought she wasn’t going to respond to him either, but finally she said, quietly, “Thank you. Just, stay safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try.” He promised. “See ya Maggie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She murmured her own goodbye to him as he headed for the door.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Late in the afternoon, the phone rang at the cottage. It was Sabrina. Amazingly she had already been released, and wanted to come by the estate tomorrow. While Chris was relieved to note she sounded well enough physically, something wasn’t right. She was strangely formal, her responses indirect or veiled. Finally she mentioned that she was calling from the inn, and he realized she was just concerned about being overheard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They set a time, and she hung up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looks like they’d have that talk he promised Carolyn sooner than he thought.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I doubt anyone besides me really cares, but I'm trying to keep things historically accurate so I feel obligated to mention that the Maine State Museum didn't open until 1971. Comments, complaints, and constructive criticism welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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